Playing Yourself
by Chronic Guardian
Summary: Akechi thinks he is Joker's greatest enemy. Joker begs to differ. {CrackFic with major spoilers}


**Playing Yourself**

By Chronic Guardian

***Warning!***

**This Crack-Fic contains MASSIVE shade. Thrown everywhere. By protag-kun. **

**Also spoilers. Like, a lot of them.**

**You have been warned.**

**...'Kay, buyyyyyy.**

"I owe you for all this..." Akechi smirked as the smell of gunpowder and blood settled in the room. "Thanks."

Across the desk, Akira Kurusu watched silently, no doubt shocked out of his skull by the turn of events.

Maybe it was something about having a captive audience, maybe he felt he owed the infamous "Joker" this much, or maybe it was just because he'd been reciting a monologue to the mirror for the past month. Whatever it was, something slipped inside and Akechi didn't bother to catch it.

Instead of finishing the job immediately, he went on.

"That's right," he said. "You and you're little friends were vital to our plan." Oh, but how gratifying it was to finally say that! "And now, it will be completed. Your popularity truly was quite stunning. That just made you all the more worthwhile…"

Leveling his gun at Kurusu's skull, he let his grin widen.

"Have you finally pieced it all together?"

"Are you… saying you were my greatest enemy this whole time?"

A weird, warm feeling of childish accomplishment bloomed in Akechi's heart, like the long awaited guest of honor descending the main stairs at an evening gala. He couldn't help but chuckle. "That's right. And now—"

"That's cute."

Suddenly, the accomplished feeling's descent turned into more of a tumble, and Akechi's smirk ran away before it could hit the pavement.

"...Beg your pardon?"  
"It's cute that you think you're my greatest enemy," Kurusu repeated with a straight face, propping his cheek up with a fist as he leaned back in his chair. "Really, I'm sorry we couldn't do this longer. Glad you feel included, though."

Akechi felt his eye twitch. Professionally speaking, he probably should have just shot the boy and been done with it, but after taking all the time to put together his monologue he couldn't help but defend it now.

"Ah, forgive me," he ground out, slightly lowering his gun so it wasn't pointed at Kurusu's face. Sure, if he pulled the trigger now then it would hit the young man in the shoulder and probably result in a scream, but if worst came to worst he could always retreat into the metaverse. "Out of curiosity, then, who _would_ you place as your greatest rival? You know, so I have something to do once you're out of the picture."

Kurusu gave him a blank look. "You mean you haven't figured it out?"

"If you go and say the SIU director, I swear—"

"It's me," the other boy said simply. "I am my greatest enemy."

"I…" Akechi blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, look at it this way," Kurusu said with an earnest tone, as if he were explaining arithmetic to a child. "I let you blackmail us—"

"Ah, no," Akechi barked a laugh and held up a stern finger. "As a matter of fact: no, you did not."

"Sure I did. We're the Phantom Thieves of Heart. All we would have to do is find your palace and steal your heart. I've done it a few times, you know. Anyway, so after deciding not to do that—"

"You don't even know if I have a palace!"

Kurusu shrugged. "My phone begs to differ. You can check it out once we're done here. But, as I was saying, instead of spending the last few weeks having my tech-savvy step sister fabricate evidence and place bait for international intervention, I've been spending every evening pounding Cosmo Burgers."

Akechi's gun arm dropped completely. "Cosmo burgers," he repeated.

"Yep. You can get them on special for five hundred yen in the evenings."

"...Why?"

"Because I'm on a budget after buying some stupid expensive jewelry I'll never use and I need to feel more confident in myself so I can trade free labor for insider tips with an ex-yakuza. It's the only way I'll ever figure out how to customize my model gun, you know."

"Have you heard of YouTube tutorials?"

"Have you heard of STFU-because-I'm-telling-a-story-you-asked-for?"

"I—"

"Because it's the same answer," Kurusu swept on. "And speaking of answers, let's go back to that budget thing. Can you tell me what's the point of buying ridiculously expensive items to make people like you if you're only going to give it to them _after_ they really like you?"

Akechi grit his teeth hard enough to warrant some cosmetic dentistry before his next close up. "Oh, _do_ tell."

"Mostly to burn your wallet. Or, rather, _my_ wallet. I never got around to connecting our bank accounts. Another thing I forgot to ask Futaba about. Also, to raise awkward questions on why I happen to have a robot vacuum stuffed in my pants for the one occasion I find a girl who won't think it's creepy I'm giving it to her. You know, just another diabolical plot by Shibuya's greatest mastermind."

"You're an idiot, Kurusu."

"I'm the smartest idiot you'll ever meet. I have to be to so constantly outsmart myself. Did you know that for the past three days straight I've been recounting every detail of my life since April?"

"Well, yes, that's what Nijima-san was supposed to ask about."

"Of course. And now she knows about all my overdue DVD rentals, spotty job attendance, and various hobby exploits. She _could_ have just checked the journal I keep in my room and learned the whole truth about everything going on, probably even joining my side in the process, but I convinced her to listen to my in-person version instead."

"And naturally, you didn't take that opportunity to give her the concise edition."

Kurusu bobbed his head. "Naturally. I wanted to talk about my adventures with a maid who is also my teacher. And also that time I moonlighted at a bar in Shinjuku."

"You're really not helping your case, here."

"Also, the part about me dating her sister."

"Yes, _really_ not helping—Wait, dating Makoto Nijima?!"

"Yes, along with the eight other women in my life."

"Wha—? H-how?!"

"I purposefully only hang out with one friend at a time and only allow their social lives to progress when I'm around. It's not very time efficient, especially considering I can only do two things a day before my cat starts yelling at me to go to bed—"

"Stop," Akechi held up one hand had pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. "Just… Forgive me if this seems too direct—"

"Okay."

The teen detective sucked up the interruption and asked a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to.

"...Are you on drugs?"

"Yes," Kurusu answered immediately—because: of course he would. "A very large and very experimental number of them. But my unaccredited back alley doctor assures me they won't impede my ability to serve in her next clinical trial."

"Oh, my dear, sweet, ever loving… Do you have any idea what you're actually doing?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then tell me. Tell me, Akira Kurusu, why in mementos would you do this to yourself?"

"Ren, actually."

"Excuse me?"  
"I meant to say so earlier, but people use my name so rarely I didn't think it would be a problem. See, I'm Ren Amamiya when I'm playing the bad side of the table and Akira Kurusu when I'm playing the hero."

"Ah! So you're schizophrenic."

"No, I just somehow ended up with two legal birth certificates, so I figured I might as well put the two names to use. What else am I supposed to do with a name like Ren?"

"You can use it to answer my question."

"What question?"  
Akechi could feel himself cracking. "What… question?" Forget pulling of the heist of the century, how had Kurusu survived daily life up to this point?

"Yeah, you've been asking a few of them. Do you mean the one about my cat, or about how I tried to lie to Sae and say I worked alone after very clearly recounting all my accomplices and what they've done for me?"

"I didn't ask either of those things."

"Oh." Kurusu almost looked embarrassed—now, of all times—before giving Akechi an innocent tilted look. "Then which one?

Akechi, overcome with impatience, slammed both hands down on the desk. "THE ONE ABOUT WHY YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF!" he thundered.

"...Are you oka—?"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

Kurusu shrugged. "Because otherwise you wouldn't stand a chance."

Taking a deep breath, Akechi reminded himself it didn't have to be personal. He didn't have to yell. He didn't even have to have this conversation.

...But on the off chance that Kurusu was actually implying himself to be the superior party, Akechi felt the need to qualify the statement.

"You mean the police force in general," he said. That was fine. That was a blanket statement. That chalked the blame up to organizational incompetence, and Akechi was more than happy to let society take the hit for that one.

"Oh, them too."

"..."

"By the way, did I ever tell you about the time I did no research on the guy who got me convicted of assault? I almost meant to, but then I figured it would be too convenient in case I ever got personality altering powers or something crazy like that."

"Is this all a game to you?"

"Yes, that's what the contract said."

"What contract?"  
"The contract I agreed to when I first came to the city. I had to agree that none of this was real."

Akechi just stared. He had no words left for the absolute lunatic before him. Somehow, this maniac had not only thrown a wrench in his plans but also tried to _toy_ with him. And while Akechi still wouldn't admit to Kurusu succeeding in such endeavors, merely attempting them was sin enough to warrant retribution.

"Oh, say, Akechi," Kurusu went on. "Would you say we're better friends now? Just a moment ago when you shot that guard, I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Did you feel anything?"

Giving Kurusu a flat look, Akechi raised his gun and showed the other young man _exactly_ how he felt.

**=Take Your Time=**

Outside the Metaverse, Akira Kurusu took his car ride with Sae Nijima in silence. It really had been an eventful week, and Akira—not being naturally inclined towards talking in general—had more or less maxed his word limit over the interrogation session.

Still, just because he wasn't talkative didn't mean he wasn't curious.

Shifting a look towards his latest ally, he stared contemplatively for a moment. Or rather, he _meant_ to only look for a moment. Eventually Sae gave him a shrewd glance.

"Something to say, Joker?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "Just… wondering,"

"About what?"

"When Akechi went in... he met your cognitive version of me."

"Okay. And?"  
"...Just wondering if it changed anything."

"Please," Sae Nijima rolled her eyes and went back to watching the road. "I have a _perfect_ idea of what you're like."

Akira waited a second more before looking back outside his window, cool glass resting against his forehead. It would probably be alright.

After all, if it was good enough to fool Sae, it would probably be good enough to fool Akechi.

-The End-

Author's Notes:

None.

What, you thought actual thought went into this story?

Nope. Just plain ol' fluffy shenanigans. Don't over think it and you'll come out fine.

Thanks for reading! Post your favorite moment of persona resource wasting nonsense in a review and I'll see you round the underground.

Sorry, not sorry,

-CG


End file.
